


Resting Phase

by coffeenebula



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18632575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeenebula/pseuds/coffeenebula
Summary: Takes place during Life Line (S6 E24). The Doctor is worried about Dr. Zimmerman. That's all it is.





	Resting Phase

The Doctor looked down at his patient, who seemed to be peacefully asleep. He was a little worried that Dr. Zimmerman had been sleeping for over 20 hours straight now, but he supposed it was due to the strain placed on his body throughout the procedure. His scans showed that the treatment was working perfectly. He sat down on a chair that he pulled up next to the bed and busied himself with reading through new medical publications on his PADD. 

It felt so surreal to him to be sitting next to his father. After all, he had never really thought about his programmer throughout his years in the Delta quadrant, and meeting him seemed like a far-fetched dream, destined to never come true. Even when he was finally able to meet his creator, he was shocked when he was met with apprehension and bitterness rather than with open, loving arms he expected from family. And now, when just a few days ago they were barely on speaking terms, Dr. Zimmerman had opened up his mind and allowed the EMH to cure his disease. 

He looked up from his PADD several times, watching the holoprogrammer’s chest slowly rise and fall as he breathed quietly. The Doctor had helped many patients before, but he had never felt so happy about saving a life until now. He shuddered. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Dr. Zimmerman was truly stubborn and never accepted his treatment until it was too late. He gently touched his hand and felt his pulse. Of course, taking these kinds of measurements was exactly what he had the tricorder for, yet somehow he felt that he needed to verify his life signs himself. Perhaps it came from the desire to feel closer to his creator. 

Dr. Zimmerman shifted his body and slowly opened his eyes. The Doctor sighed in relief as he squeezed his patient’s hand. 

“... Haley?” Dr. Z asked quietly, seemingly disoriented.

“No, this is the EMH. I could get her if you want me to, but I doubt you’re in much of a state to talk right now,” the Doctor calmly explained. “You’ve been asleep for a while, and you’ll still need some more rest because of how much you’ve been through these past few weeks.”

“Oh, you…” Dr. Zimmerman grunted. “Quiet down a bit. Your voice is annoying.”

“May I remind you that we sound the exact same,” the Doctor replied sharply but unable to hide his smile. He was glad that the programmer was at least well enough to make harsh comments as he usually does.

“Whatever… Move out of the way. I need to get up,” Zimmerman stated. He slowly started to sit up, wincing from the pain. 

“Just where do you think you’re going?” The Doctor stood up, blocking the other man’s way. “I’m not letting you get back to work just yet.”

“I need to use the bathroom. Now get out of my way,” the holoprogrammer growled and stood up, half shoving the Doctor out of the way before nearly collapsing onto the ground. He grunted in pain, clutching his chest.

“Easy there, it’s only been a few days since you were on the brink of dying,” he said, helping Dr. Zimmerman back up. “Do you need help-”

“No,” Dr. Z replied. “I’m perfectly capable of moving around myself.” He limped towards the bathroom, his body shaking slightly. The Doctor watched as he closed the door. His relief had quickly turned into worry; he was glad that Dr. Zimmerman was making a recovery, but with the way he was acting he seemed like he was trying to shut out any help again, any access into his heart, in an attempt to cover up his vulnerabilities.

Dr. Zimmerman came back a few minutes later and threw himself back onto the bed. He sighed as he curled up into a fetal position, hiding his face.

“Don’t you have any medication to make me feel better…?” the patient mumbled. 

“Well, I do have pain medication, but I don’t think it’s wise to pump-”

“Oh come on, spare me the medical nonsense. Give me a hypo of your best pain meds,” Zimmerman snapped. “Make sure you add something to help me sleep too. I’ve been awake for fifteen minutes and I’m already tired of being conscious.”

“I refuse to do so!” the Doctor retaliated. “Okay, fine, I’ll get you some drugs for the pain, but I’m not going to let you go back to sleep just yet! Do you understand what your body has been through these past few days?” He put his hand on the holoprogrammer’s shoulder, gently rubbing him. “You need rest, yes, but you also need food. If I remember correctly, you haven’t eaten in 53 hours… Not to mention you should start to get some exercise as well, even if it’s just a little walk to the lab and back every few hours.” He took out a hypospray from his bag along with a tube full of painkillers and administered it to Dr. Zimmerman. He could see the man’s body relax after a few seconds. 

“... Doctor, please, let me stay like this for a little longer. I haven’t been able to rest so well in years,” Dr. Zimmerman whispered.

“Fine, but I’m making sure you’re getting a nice, balanced meal after this. I’m sure Haley can prepare something for you,” the Doctor said grudgingly. “Why didn’t you say anything if you were in pain this whole time?” There was a few minutes of silence.

“The physical pain only started a few months ago,” Dr. Zimmerman muttered. “I had a lot of work to do and a lot of mistakes to fix because of you. It was mostly just not having enough time to sleep, and the little sleep I got was during the day, whatever that means on a space station. I didn’t like being bothered, so I would just work late at night.”

“It wasn’t my fault that you created me,” the Doctor grumbled, then looked up immediately regretting voicing his thoughts. He was talking to a broken man, someone who was already having trouble opening up about his insecurities. He watched as Dr. Zimmerman’s expression shifted from annoyance to rage to sadness.

“You’re right,” Dr. Z finally admitted. “It’s not your fault… I was the one that programmed you, after all.” He sighed and turned over, facing away from the Doctor. “I promise I’ll eat whatever rabbit food Haley decides to make later. Just leave me alone for another hour or so, please.” The Doctor could hear pain in his voice, but it was a pain that came from the mind and not the body.

“I’ll respect your wishes,” the Doctor said quietly. “Feel free to call me over if you need anything else.” He heard Dr. Zimmerman grunt as he left his quarters. He knew the battle had only begun; he saved his creator from a genetic disease, but he still had to save the programmer from himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a dream two years ago that I was throwing isolinear chips at Dr. Zimmerman while he was sick and in bed and I still think about that dream on a regular basis. It inspired me to write this for absolutely no reason.


End file.
